So, I start this post with a little trepidation on my part. Mostly because I believe that once you utter a thing aloud, it escapes into the universe, never to recalled, or, ignored. And, more often than not, in my experience, once it was escaped, it becomes reality. The Vietnamese have a saying, be careful what you wish for......
But, in case, If I am right in what I fear, I want it to at least be here, in my "private" journal.
To start we have to go way back in time, to another lifetime. Back when I was still married (happily so) to Hobbit. As of this writing, that would have been about 7, possibly 8 years ago.
During my marriage to Hobbit, I probably gained 30 pounds, bringing me to something over 265 pounds. Nothing that she did caused this. I blame me. I was drinking 8-15 Dr Pepper's a day, and eating double meat cheeseburgers with bacon for lunch, and generally not taking care of myself. But, I was, during this time, care free about my health. Generally, I felt good, and so, I didn't care about the weight and what not. Plus, work was a nightmare, and home was a nightmare, because the kids were in the process of changing their custody from living with their Mom to living at my house.
It was a highly stressful time, and I was just plowing through the days, not paying attention to anything that was going on, unless it was right in front of me. That included my health.
Suddenly, I noticed that something had changed. I say suddenly, because it seems like I woke up one morning, and all these new "feelings" (Symptoms) hit. I suddenly was thirsty all the time. I was peeing like there was no tomorrow. Generally, I felt like my energy levels were low, and I was tired all the time. And it wasn't tired because I wasn't sleeping, in fact, I was sleeping more than my normal 4 hours a night, and still not feeling rested.
Hobbit expressed that perhaps I needed to go to the doctor, and I rejected that out of hand, because, well, I hate doctors, and I hate going to them, and I hate that they practice at their jobs.
Then suddenly, I noticed that I was losing weight. Like falling off of me. In two months, I lost 20-25 pounds. By now, I have secretly used the internet, and decided that I might have diabetes, because of the symptoms. But, I refused to go to the doctor. Why, you may ask? Well, that weight thing. I felt like while I was losing weight, I'd let it rock along, maybe to 30-35 pounds total. That would put me back to my weight when I married Hobbit, and I thought I was killing two birds with one stone. Because I wanted to lose the weight, and losing the weight would help to control the diabetes, if I had it.
Finally, I went to the doctor, and I found out that my blood sugar, and blood pressure were fairly bad. By now, I had lost 30 pounds, and was feeling kind of good about that, while, everyone around me was freaking out that I was going to have a stroke and die.
The doctor prescribed a couple of different pill, one that was a long term solution, meaning that it would take a couple of days to build up in my system, and help regulate the insulin absorbation process, and the other, which was a fast acting pill. I do not remember all the names of all the different pills that were prescribed, but, they kept messing with them in an effort to get my A1C blood test back towards the 6 (or was it 6.5? I do not remember). During these tryouts, I remember that my blood numbers, that I was taking 3-5 times a day, were all over the place, and worse yet, one of the pill combinations caused me to gain 25 pounds, which the doctor said was an "unfortunate side-effect". Side effect my back-side. That 25 pounds was killing me. On top of which, the doctor was constantly yelling at me to lose weight.
So, finally about a year before Hobbit left, I finally got some pills that kept my blood sugar numbers low enough for me. That doesn't mean that the doctor was happy, because he wanted the number to be 20 points or more lower, but, after the previous year of up and down, I was happy with the 140-150's that I was getting. (just to be clear, Hobbit was none to happy about my happiness for the blood numbers either.)
The medicine, unfortunately, was considered "premium" by my insurance, and so cost me 90 each, every month. I could get a 3 month supply for slightly less than that, but, I did not have that kind of money, so, I bought the 200.00 each month.
Then Hobbit left, and I realized that financially, lots of things were going to have to change. I would up draining two different 401K's to get me through that next 18 months, and whatever.
So, on the third month after she left, I made the decision that buying food for me and my daughter was more important than me taking those pills. But, I knew that not taking the pills would cause issues, so, I really changed the way that I ate. Gone were the double meat cheeseburgers 4-6 times a week, and the 10+ Dr Pepper's every day, and all the other bad eating habits that I had. I switched to Diet drinks, and even cut those back to 5-10 a day.
But, I was a little paranoid, so, I paid attention to whether the insatiable thirst came back, or the peeing all the time, or that perhaps I would start losing feeling in my feet and hands. After all, I still had a daughter in High School, and I had promised at some point in my past that I would take care of myself so that I could, someday, walk her down the aisle at her wedding.
So, starting in 2009 (late in 2009), the scale told me that I was back to 271, and I decided that I needed to do something about it. I started walking more often at the gym, and eating better, and what-not. And Slowly, my weight started to fall. Back then, I said to myself, if I could just get down to 220 pounds, which was my weight before Wild Heart left me in 1995, that I would be happy.
December 2011, I weighed myself, and amazingly, all my hard work had paid off, and I was under 225. Wow! more than 50 pounds. I was shocked and amazed. Looking at myself in the mirror, which I never do, I realized that I looked significantly different than I remembered in the past.
At this point, I wasn't as strict about what I ate, and I certainly wasn't walking at the gym as much, because for me, I had hit my goal weight. But the thought in the back of my head was, "what if I can get to 200 pounds?", I mean, I haven't weighed 200, since my son was born in 1988.
I called it my "dream weight". Because it was my "I Have a dream moment".
In early March, while at the gym, I decided to weigh myself again, because I noticed that all my clothes were just hanging off of me, and that seemed new to me. I was shocked, the scale said that I had lost another ten pounds, and now I was under 215 pounds. So, now, I see the "dream weight" as actually attainable, and I started going to the gym more often, and walking further on the treadmill, etc. By the end of March, my weight was 202.
I was ecstatic! I had hit my dream weight. And the funny thing, that last 20 pounds, well, everyone seemed to notice that weight. It was like I had changed overnight. In fact, I had to buy new pants, and other clothes because I realized that me wearing the larger clothes made me look like I was a homeless person. I mean, I really thought I looked bad. In fact, I was able to wear clothes that were in the very back of my closet that I hadn't worn in the previous 10 years, and MAN (!), was that a cool feeling.
But, while all this was going on, I kept doing my daily "can I feel my feet" checks, and thinking about how thirsty, and/or how much I was peeing every day, because I wanted to make sure that, even though I am not taking the pills, and have lost a quarter of my beginning weight, that I was still not rampantly out of control with my blood sugar. I know that I could have gone to the doctor, and had myself checked, but, frankly, my opinions about doctors was still the same.
It was at that time that I remember having a conversation with myself, and deciding that from that moment on, that whatever happens, happens. I wasn't going back to the doctor's office, and if I was still sick, then I was just riding the bomb down to its inevitable end.
I had decided, privately, that there was something wrong with me, otherwise, why was weight still falling off of me? I know for my part, I am not really eating great, and though I was down to less than 5 sodas total for the week, and most of the time, it was 2 or less.
During this last burst of weight loss, I bought new pants again. Size 36, Slim Fit, cowboy cut jeans, which was what I was wearing in 1988. I had also, gone from x-large, to large, and finally, in early April, Medium, underwear. Crazy. Also during the spring, I had an incident where a friend of my children, who is a policeman for a local small police department, had a terrible car accident, and I went to give blood to help him out, and the blood taker took my blood pressure, and it squirted out to 170 over 110, which apparently is bad. Either way, they didn't take my blood to help out Ryan. So, I asked Number One daughter for some guidance about what it meant, because reading the internet made it sound like I was on he doorstep of death. She answered my questions, and honored my request not to ask too many questions in return. I saw the look on her face. But, what I do not understand is why after 70+ pounds, is my stupid blood pressure is high? So, we need to add this to the stuff that is hiding in the corner, waiting to drop me like I've been hit by pole-axe.
I generally do not feel unwell, and my energy seems good. I am still riding my bike every day, and don't seem to be suffering from any bad ailments. Of course, low pressure fronts still wipe out my head, and cause pretty massive headaches, but, I suffer through them with ice packs, and Excedrin Migraine, by the handful. But other than that, and sometimes a little allergy stuff, everything is everything, meaning, I am good.
But, I noticed the week I was in San Antonio, while I was in the park, that my new size 36 pants, seemed to looser in the waist than when I bought them. I just attributed it to the heat, and being in the park all day, and water weight loss, and just to ignore it. Then when I came back, I had to move my belt up a notch, and I noticed, its the last notch in the belt. I am going to have to replace it if I continue to lose weight.
At that point, I revisited the earlier conversations with myself, of not going to the doctor, and not finding out if something was wrong, and finally, that "riding the bomb to its inevitable end" declaration.
While I have publicly stated now, many times, that I am ready to go, and I am, I wonder if I really am. Because of my internal discussion about going to the doctor, and what-not.
But, I -AM- ready to go. I would be okay if I went to sleep tonight, and didn't wake up again. I have done what I was supposed to do as an adult, and parent. My kids are grown, and I have a little life insurance money to give them when I pass. Every day that passes, I find that I am hating this alone, not to mention the lonely thing that I have going on. Heck, I even ride a motorcycle in the fourth largest city in America, so, I am even doing risky things, with fatal consequences.....
I have for a long time, feared that I would be long-lived, like my grandparents, they made it way up into their 80's. I even found out recently that my biological mother, who I have had no contact with for 25+ years is still alive, and she is well into her 70's now. I do not want to be old. I do not want to have to rely upon the kindness of others to get me through those years. I hate asking for, and owing favors. I have no friends to speak of, and family, well, let's just say, I have alienated all of them. Of course, I have children, and I am sure that one of them would help out if he could, I do not know if I want to burden him that way. The other? well, we do not speak at all, and haven't in 3 months.
So, I would be happy if 2012 is my last year walking the planet. 2013, at the very latest. As I said, I am ready to go.
So, if you dear reader, suddenly hear about me keeling over dead, or getting hit by the proverbial bus, or whatever chronic health problem that I do have catches up with me, and drops me like a rock, know that all is good. And I went on my terms.
My apologies to my twitter friends, and other causal friends that may reading this. This is not a call for help. I am not asking you all to do anything. I am just putting it out in the universe, "out loud" that I am ready to go, and there is nothing holding me here.
My apologies to my "In Real Life" friends that might be reading this. This is also not a "cry for help" about anything. Just trying to see if this will help me go.
I love you all. Even the ones that I shouldn't love, because I am not married to either of you anymore. Even the inappropriate ones that I obsess over.
Shalom.
Namaste, My Friends.
See You On The Other Side.
Deo Non Fortuna - We have to believe this, or, this 50 years on the planet is just a cosmic joke, right?